Reunion
by Peradan
Summary: A nineteen-year-old Lasaraleen meets Aravis for the first time since she fled to Archenland.


Rabadash now ruled over Calormen, and the old Grand Vizier was dead too, replaced by Kidrash Tarkaan of Calavar.

The Calormene/Archenlandish peace — delight of the new Tisroc's eyes — had to be ratified, and since no force on earth could remove Rabadash from Tashbaan, the Archenlanders had to come to Calormen. Given past events, they could hardly be expected to relish the prospect — and indeed, the peacemaking expedition arrived with such a number of warriors as could almost be considered an insult.

Then it was discovered that _these_ Northerners were accompanied not by demons in the forms of beasts, and half-men, and other horrific monsters, but by a lady — not a white barbarian, either, but a civilised lady, a lady of great beauty and discretion — in short, a Calormene Tarkheena.

As they made their way through Tashbaan, everyone, from the lowliest slave to Lasaraleen Tarkheena, was forced to give way for the foreigners. Lazily, she glanced at them, wondering if these men would be quite as lovely as the Narnian ones.

She had just determined that the twin princes were very lovely indeed (especially since there were two) when her eyes fell on the woman between them. She was in a really delightful amber gown —

Lasaraleen bolted upright, staring in absolute astonishment at the other girl. (At nineteen, both considered themselves quite grown-up, but in reality they were still very much girls.)

_"Aravis?"_

#

The crowd swept them apart, but Aravis immediately turned to Cor and said, "Why, that was Lasaraleen!"

Then she remembered that she had managed to quarrel with both royal brothers, and wasn't on speaking terms with either, but by then it was too late. Cor had already broken into one of his sudden brilliant smiles.

"We'll go visit her, if you like," he said, and Corin grimaced and muttered about the great silliness of Tarkheenas, having quite forgotten that Aravis herself was one. Nobody called her that at Anvard. So then they all quarrelled again, and had to make it up later, and Aravis had only her servants with her when she paid her respects to her friend.

#

The crowds were simply _dreadful_ — and then several of the Tisroc's sisters decided to go about, so that Lasaraleen was just ages late getting home. Then, when she emerged from her milk bath, and dressed for the evening, she heard that a lady had arrived mere minutes before.

Lasaraleen rushed downstairs. "Aravis!" she cried happily, and a little slave kept them from creasing one another's gowns.

"You look very well, Las," Aravis said presently, and of course Lasaraleen thanked her very prettily, and said that Aravis was simply divine these days, and what _had_ she been doing with herself? Then she prattled on of her own concerns, and only listened when Aravis talked of the two delicious young men.

"And you live with them, darling?" cried Lasaraleen, feeling briefly envious. Aravis really did have all the luck.

"Yes," said Aravis, then added, "horrid little boys that they are."

As soon as Aravis finished complaining, Lasaraleen turned to the next best subject. The Archenlandish fashions were so charming and Aravis' gown was lovely and even _she_ must know a great deal about them?

"Yes, I suppose so," she said, and they talked quite cheerfully of clothes and then the real news came out, when Aravis mentioned that King Lune was insisting upon giving her another wardrobe, for the wedding.

"I simply _adore_ weddings!" cried Lasaraleen; "but whose it is? shall it be here? Oh, do say so, for I should love to come. And my husband would buy me new pearls and gowns and — "

"It's mine," said Aravis, "and it will certainly be in Archenland."

It was most unfair — charming and delightful, of course, but terribly unfair. After all, Aravis had been so nonsensical as to throw away a Grand Vizier on some minor accounts of looks and age and quite proper deference to the late Tisroc and the present one, and yet she, impractical as she had been, would snare a better catch than any girl Lasaraleen knew. The King's heir! Really, it was amusing beyond words to imagine it — in mere weeks, her wild friend was to become the Princess Aravis, and someday, a _queen_.

"How perfectly charming!" said Lasaraleen. "Why, my breath is quite taken away. You shall be so rich and grand, darling; I hope you will still have time for little old me!—but" (and now she remembered Aravis' earlier remarks) "it's a pity he isn't more agreeable."

"Don't you _dare_ say a word against Cor," said Aravis, and her voice was as cold and hard as Lasaraleen had ever heard it.


End file.
